THIS FANFIC IS BEING MOVED TO COMISS . IO WHERE I CAN BE MOTIVATED TO CONTINUE IT BY PATRONS WHO WANT TO SEE THE STORY CONTINUE. THERE ARE ALREADY A FEW BUT THOSE OF YOU WHO ARE HERE SHOULD GO FIND THIS STORY THERE AND KEEP UP TO DATE WITH THE CHAPTERS THAT WILL BE COMING IN THE FUTURE.
IT'S BEEN WONDERFUL BUT REALLY, AS A FULL TIME WRITER I CAN'T EXCUSE WRITING WITHOUT A FINANCIAL ABILITY ANYMORE
I'M SORRY
Harry looked at the teacher's table, the professors frantically moving as they made their ways to their respective houses, calming the students with soothing voices. Minerva McGonagall stood at the head of the Gryffindor table, calling for attention and gesturing with her hands for the students to remain seated. This was a genuine emergency. Snape took a look at the Slytherins, nodding at several of the prefects before exiting through the back door which happened to be close to his spot at the table. That was the tipping point, as it caused the younger kids to panic and begin shouting. Soon, the entire Great Hall was echoing with the shrieks of panicked kids and shouting professors. Albus Dumbledore lightly slapped the unconscious Quirrel before gently lowering him on the floor and turning to the shrieking children. He placed the tip of his wand on his throat and clear his throat before taking a deep breath. "SILENCE!" He bellowed, the magically augmented sound echoing even louder than the combined shouting might of the first and second years. "Now everyone…" He continued without his wand, now that he had their attention. "Remain calm. Prefects, escort your houses to the common rooms while the teachers and I, deal with this issue." His voice resonated even without the aid of magic and the students calmed. All of them, save for the Slytherins who happened to realize that their common room was IN the dungeons.
One of the students raised a hand. "Professor Dumbledore, what of us Slytherins?" He asked before the other tables began to talk amidst themselves. There was no love lost between the houses but the Slytherins were the least liked of the bunch. "Our common room is in the dungeons… with the troll…." Dumbledore raised his hands and the hall grew silent once more. "Your prefects will escort you to your common rooms, worry not. We will have dealt with the problem by the time you arrive at your rooms." At this he turned to the rest of the assembled school. "Now then, prefects?" Students with badges on their chests stood, talking softly to the rest of their houses, all but the Slytherins arising from their tables and marching out of the hall. Harry, Draco and Ron looked at each other. This was not good.
Harry scanned the rest of their table and froze in place, eyes widening with shock. Where was Hermione? He turned to Ron and Draco, frantically waving for their attention. "Guys, I can't find Hermione!" He told them, which caused Ron to pale and for Draco to scan the table to see if he could find her himself. "Where could she be?" Asked Draco as they stood up to follow their house to their common room, their fellow students muttering softly. Harry could almost smell their fear and he swallowed. He too, was afraid.
Meanwhile, Hermione had been in the girls lavatories contained within the dungeons. She gone there almost at the beginning of the feast after one of the Slytherin girls bumped into her and ordered Hermione to move to the side, calling her a filthy mudblood and making a show of brushing her robes. She remembered what Draco and Ron had told her but it still stung, bringing back too many memories of her times at the muggle schools where she had been made fun of for her desire to know. It didn't matter what it was, as long as she could learn it. Computer programming? She knew Java and C++. The sciences? Hermione had memorized the laws of thermodynamics before she had finished third-grade. And through it all, she had been ostracized by the other girls and boys in the schools. Names like 'Nerd, geek, and freak' and many more had been thrown at her by children that merely envied her knowledge and wished to demean her in any way possible. Back in the first potions class she had taken at the beginning of the school term she had delved back into her usual pattern of behaviors. Asking question after question in order to satisfy her thirst for education, answering correctly when Professor Snape tested their knowledge and bringing pride and honor to her house. For a while in that class, she felt happy again. She had real friends, she had a new world to learn from. And then she got called a nerd. She clenched her teeth at the memory, concentrating on anything else. If she delved too deep into the thought, she'd become depressed once more.
Sighing, Hermione sat on one of the toilets, the porcelain covering hard and smooth as she tucked her knees in and hugged her legs to her chest, feeling some tears cloud her vision. Closing her eyes, she let go and cried. It didn't matter that she had genuine friends; the words stung like mental wasps and left reminders within her mind. Her most sacred possession and yet it was so easy to damage it. Words left no bruises, no cuts or bumps for people to see. She sniffled and pressed her head against her knees. Whomever had decided to create the rhyme of 'Sticks and stones my break my bones, but words will never hurt me' had either never suffered the way most children did, or had been the bully out right. She sighed and shivered in the cold. She wanted to be held by her parents, to be loved and to know that her love was also important. She'd send another letter the next day, she decided. That way she could keep a faster correspondence with her parents and not having to wait for them to reply before sending them her thoughts and feelings. Thunder rolled over head and Hermione looked up at the ceiling. It had been a rather clear day earlier but she supposed that during the fall it was easy for storms to develop. She locked the door of her stall, not wanting to be bothered by any girls that decided to use the restroom, if any showed up.
Harry, Ron and Draco walked with the rest of their house though at a slower pace, conversing together and frantically looking about the many passageways of the school. So far, there had been no sight of the troll but no one relaxed because of it. If this was a prank, it was of very poor taste if done by a student and outright ridiculous of done by a professor. However, Quirrel had gained a reputation for being timid, shy and very, very serious. Even the Weasley twins knew not to mess with him, or so it would seem, as they had left him and his classroom alone. On they went for a while, deep in conversation and eventually realizing that they had split off from the main group and gone on their own way. Ron looked past the corners, trying to see if he could find their house-mates but to no avail. Harry and Draco talked some more together before they stopped and pressed themselves against one of the walls. Thunder rolled over head but they knew that the night had been clear of clouds. With wide eyes, they looked at each other and Ron pointed past them, his hand shaking as he looked on the verge of panic induced tears. "H-harry…" He whispered and they looked at where he pointed before they too felt on the verge of panicking. Far off to the distance, stood a troll.
Now, here is a thing about trolls. They are not too bright at the best of times and they can get to be ludicrously tall. They stink outright and they usually carry a club of sorts which they drag about anywhere they go. Those are normal trolls or the common variety as described in the book of Fantastic Beasts and There to Find Them. However, there is an issue. When Quirrel had burst into the Great Hall and shouted that there was a troll at the top of his lungs, they had all assumed that it was the common variety. Tall, strong, relatively easy to deal with. What stood before them however, was a mountain troll and those are no trifling matter. Mountain trolls are twice as tall as their common cousins, twice as strong and disgustingly enough, twice as foul in both odor and appearance. This one seemed to be the leader of its tribe; a tree had been ripped off the ground and served as its new club, the dirt of its roots cascading off with each step the troll took. Thankfully, it had not spotted the three huddling Slytherins as it made its way past their hallway, growling and causing the walls to shake with the thunder of its voice. Once it was gone, the odor hit them and they gagged.
Never had they smelled anything so foul. Draco especially had to fight in order to keep his dinner within his stomach. "T-that's not ordinary troll." Draco said, wiping his mouth where an excess of saliva had formed. "M-my father uses that kind to protect our house from intruders. T-they patrol the y-yard." He said, sitting down shakily. Ron stared at the spot where the troll had exited their vision. "Your father is mad!" He said, swallowing noisily. "What does he think is going to attack your house? A blooming dragon?" Harry knew one thing though. Hermione had no clue that such a being was loose within the castle. "Come on." He said, walking to where the dirt clods of the trees roots had fallen. The air was thick with the body odor of the troll and they felt their eyes water as the acidic environment assaulted their senses. "W-we must f-find Hermione…" Coughed Harry, placing his sleeve over his nose and mouth, his eyes narrowing as he followed the dirt trail. Ron and Draco followed suit, making their way down the halls in search of their friend. If they did not reach her before the troll did, then it would be very, very dangerous.
Draco walked alongside Harry and Ron, thinking as he made his way down the hallway. Why was he doing this? He barely knew the Granger girl and if it meant risking his own skin then how worth it could it be? He had to look after number one. Himself. But how to do it without losing face before Harry Potter? This was the Boy Who Lived, the shining beacon of the Wizarding world. He defeated You-Know-Who. Malfoy had a sense for people and his senses told him that Harry Potter would become one of the most influential wizards in history. Quietly, he hatched a plan. "Potter, Weasley. You go on ahead, I'll find the prefects and get to follow me and help, alright?" The two looked at each other before nodding. "Thanks Malfoy." Said Harry, Ron nodding at the blonde as they parted ways. 'No…' Thought Draco as he grinned to himself. 'Thank you.' Slowly, Draco made his way far from the path that the troll had taken and eventually stopped after taking several twists and turns. He looked around, then back at the path he had taken. "Damn it…" Draco cursed. He was lost.
Harry and Ron were busy following the acrid stench of the troll's large body, keeping it in view as it lumbered on through the hallways, taking turns at random at times stopping and sniffing the air before sneezing and covering the walls with snot, which bubbled and hissed at it struck the stones. They felt as if they were eventually going to go full circle and maybe never reach Hermione but it was best to stay safe and make sure she was alright. After all, it is the Slytherin way to look after one another. On went the troll, Harry and Ron following behind it for a while until at last it reached a set of wooden doors. It kept walking, smashing through them and sending splinters all over the floors. It had reached the girl's lavatories, now all that Harry and Ron could do was hope and pray to whoever was listening that Hermione was not inside the cramped space.
Hermione, was very much within the cramped space. She had been thinking for a while, her face set in a frown as she hatched a plan. If people truly though that her status as a muggleborn defined her ability with magic and sorceries then she would prove them wrong. She knew things. Spells and hexes that did not kill but hurt. She would do to those that belittled her with words the same but with magic. She cleared her throat and sniffled one last time, rubbing at her eyes and unlocking the door of her stall. The sinks gleamed under the magical lights and she turned one on with which to wash her face with. She did not want anyone knowing that they ahd got to her. The water dribbled over her palms and she splashed her face, eyes closing instinctively as the liquid cooled her skin. At the same time it did, the door and its walls smashed inwards, the stench of something incredibly rotten wafting over her. She opened her eyes quickly and turned to the source of the commotion. She could see little, as there was water in her eyes but she knew that something was wrong. She could see a towering form ahead of her and heard someone shouting.
Harry and Ron both ran as the troll entered the restroom, its massive body shambling forwards at her. So, she was inside the bathrooms. Now the problem as getting her out. "Hermione, duck!" They shouted at her and she dove for the stall she had just exited, the troll gripping the tree in its hands and swinging over the air, smashing the tiles on the ceiling and crashing against the floor with a ground shaking thud, the marble cracking beneath the force of the strike. Hermione shrieked as the cacophony overwhelmed her ears, the troll roaring as it tried to beat the sounds of children shouting. It groaned, farting loudly and grunting as it ripped the tree from the floor, cement raining from the dirt that clogged the roots and pieces of marble pattering off of it.
"Hey! Donut!" Shouted Harry, which admittedly was not the greatest of insults but it did the trick. Something was shouting behind the troll and a very slow sense of self-preservation instructed it that it would be a good idea to turn around just then. Ron grabbed a piece of marble that had shattered with the impact and threw it at the troll, hitting it on the head and merely eliciting an annoyed growl from it as it stood tall and gazed at the students. "Oh son of a bi-" Ron began to say before he and Harry dove to opposite ends, the trunk that the troll hefted whistling through the air and smashing against the floor once more, the troll itself roaring a challenge that echoed through the large hallways of the dungeons and resonated throughout the entire castle, causing students of all ages to flinch at the same time. Ron stood back up and grabbed a beam of wood, throwing it like a makeshift spear at the troll. It flew true though it merely cracked against the tough leathery hide of the monster. However, it was distracted by Harry, who had thought it a good idea to jump on the foul creatures back and hit it with a stone. The troll turned around, surprised at the fact that despite something was striking its head, it could not see anything that could be causing the hits. Perhaps it was coming from the sky? It thought slowly and looking up, dumb face looking upwards and seeing Harry's head. Harry found himself staring at the troll's upside down face, the sight making him slow down for half a second.
"Oh crap," he said as the troll gripped his leg and pulled him off its shoulders. Harry felt lost. First he had been on the beast then he was hanging upside down. However he had no chance to keep thinking as he could see that the troll was hefting its large tree up in the air. What was it trying to… Oh. Harry doubled over, lifting up his body as the tree flew barely an inch away from his head with a whistle, the force causing the troll to stumble and twist around while following the momentum of the large staff. It grunted, snorted and paused. Hefting up Harry once more, it tried again. Meanwhile, Hermione found herself covered in dust and pieces of marble, some scratches on her skin that bled slightly where the shards had struck her with force. She got on all fours, crawling over the debris and making her way stealthily to the spot where the doors had formerly been. However, before her plant could come to fruition she dropped to the floor, flat on her belly as Ron had shouted at her to duck again, the tree flying over her not a second after his warning. Harry kept dodging the strikes but he was getting slower, his abdomen not used to doing that version of Extreme Sit-Ups. He made a vow then to do more sports, as this was ludicrous. Once more the log whistled past and the troll tumbled after it, spinning around before settling back on its two large and very misshapen feet.
Ron was on the verge of hysterics. Nothing there was helping him defeat the monster and his two friends were in grave danger. Then he felt stupid, digging in his pocket and pulling out his wand. "Hermione, what do I do!" He asked her, waving his wand for emphasis. She looked at him and then ducked once more when the tree flew over her. "Use the levitation spell!" She shouted and Ron nodded. "Wait, which spell is that!?" He shouted over the roaring of the troll and Harry took a deep breath. "Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry said at the top of his lungs before dodging the trunk of the tree. That one had come close to taking his head off, which was a sobering thought. Ron looked lost and Hermione crawled to one of the walls. "Swish and flick, Ron! Like professor Flitwick said!" She shouted before screaming as the tree had smashed nary a foot away from her, sending the porcelain of the bathroom sinks flying in every direction, one of the shards cutting her cheek from which she began to bleed. Underestanding, Ron stabilized himself and waited for the troll to raise once more its cudgel. When it did, Ron was ready, casting the spell and immediately groaning under the strain of holding up a tree on his own. "D-damn…" He said, gripping his wand, sweat forming beads over his forehead and face. It was extremely heavy. The troll roared once more and swung at Harry but it did not notice the fact that it was missing its tree, which now floated over its head. It dropped Harry, who crawled back to Ron's side and lay there, panting. Ron looked at his friend, face growing red with concentration. He looked at the troll who was now looking up at the floating wood, head cocked to the side with confusion. It was a dumb beast but even it knew that trees did not fly. Ron thought of dropping the log on the monsters head and knocking it unconscious but he then saw Hermione who was bleeding and seemed to be badly hurt, apparently one of the pipes had struck her arm and broken a bone. Time seemed to slow, blood roared in Ron's ears and he could hear nothing save his own heartbeat, which thundered like twin drums around his head.
"Kill it…" Said a chorus of soft and almost silent voices. Ron looked at the troll, unmoving as it stared at its cudgel. "It will kill you and your friends… Ronald Weasley… You must be stronger than it… It does not think… It only acts. You… you are better than it… it is beneath you… It has dared to strike you…" The voices echoed over each other, some a bass so deep that they seemed to come from the bottomless pits of the oceans. Others so high and soft that they seemed to have wings with which to fly. Ron shook his head slowly. What was happening? He wondered to himself. Then, Ron took another look at Hermione, her eyes closed and face scrunched in pain as she held her broken arm, a cut on her cheek sending blood down her neck and tears streaming from her eyes. Whatever doubts Ron had, they quickly dissipated as a red fog fell over his vision. Instead of releasing the spell, he slammed the wand down and smashed the log into the trolls head. Where some stones thrown by Ron had failed earlier, the force that was exerted on the log was far greater and more destructive. For starters, the troll's skull caved in, its blood and brain matter spewing out under pressure as the log collapsed the head into its large body, ripping into it and destroying its insides. It shuddered, hands slowly reaching up before falling down at its sides and slamming forwards in a heap, the wood of the tree sticking out like an obscenely long neck. Blood trickled out of the open wound with each dying heartbeat of the troll, soon coating the floor near the body in a sickly green.
Hermione crawled over to Ron's side and sat, crying to herself due to the pain of her arm and the shock of almost dying. Ron stood there, feeling queasy. Had he really just done that? Then, the smell hit them three. If trolls smelled bad in the outside, the mountain trolls were even more foul. Now the insides are indescribable as the odor essentially shuts down the human nose and sends the brain a simple message. Go throw up. "Guy's I um…" Said Hermione who shakily stood up and groaned. "I think uh…" She closed her mouth and held up a finger, shakily making her way to one of the toilets and retching loudly, the contents of her stomach splattering into the porcelain bowl. Harry had no such luck as he was too tired to make his way to the remaining toilet. All he could do was lean to the side and vomit there, his bile mixing with the blood of the troll before he closed his eyes and resorted to breathing through his mouth. Ron stood there, shaking. The urge to also vomit was strong but not as strong as his bewilderement. Where had that urge come from? He felt lost at sea with merely a life-saver as his means of support. He blinked once, numbly placing his wand within his pocket and making his way to the troll in a daze. When he reached the spot of the wound, he could not hold it in anymore and he doubled over, clutching his belly as he sprayed his dinner over the wall, spitting and wiping his mouth before drinking some water from the only functioning sink that remained from the disaster that had become the bathroom.
Just then, Draco and the prefects showed up, accompanied by Professor Snape, McGonagall, Quirrel and Flitwick. Minerva took the scene in and placed a hand on her chest. "Oh dear…" She shakily breathed, covering her nose as to keep at bay the smell of troll blood and vomit. "Come now, children." She said, extending her arms and guiding Ron to Snape's side, helping Harry up and clicking her tongue at the broken bones in Hermione's arm. "What on Earth where you two thinking!" She said to them, causing them to flinch. Hermione stood and hung her head. "It was my fault, Professor. I'd read in some books that troll's have many valuable items for potion making… I wanted to see if I could take some without it noticing as I'd read also that they are very dumb and slow. Harry and Ron showed up just in time." She sobbed and clutched her arm to her chest.
Professor McGonagall shook her head, looking with concern in her eyes though a disapproving frown on her face. "Very well Miss Granger… I thank you for your honesty however… I must deduct fifty points from Slytherin. For each of you!" She snapped. "For stupidity and failure to think things through." Snape cleared his throat. "However, I must give twenty-five points to… each of them as well. They did just… provide me with some very… valuable, ingredients…" Minerva looked aghast at the potions professor. "Severus!" She replied, choking on her words. "They could have died!" She protested but the potions teacher merely shrugged. "They took a risk and it paid off. Is that not how Gryffindor believes that problems should be solved?" He asked, arching a single eyebrow as Draco chuckled.
"Now Potter, Granger and Weasley… to the infirmary. Professor McGonagall will take you there while I… deal, with this." He said, nodding at the elderly woman who smiled at them and sighed. "One of these days I will have a heart attack." She muttered to herself as they walked off. Only Harry had noticed this but professor Snape had been bleeding from one leg, some blood trickling in drops to the floor where his robes ended. He found it most… curious. Quirrel nodded at Snape and at the students. "V-v-v-v-very b-b-brave of y-y-you, my young f-f-f-f-f-friends. I d-d-do not t-t-t-think that any other s-s-s-students could have accomplished the s-s-s-same as you h-h-h-have…" He said at their receding forms and then smiling at Snape who merely looked at him with a neutral frown of displeasure. "Quirrel… take Draco back to the Slythering common room… I'm… sure, you know the way… there."
Once in the infirmary, Madame Pomfrey fussed over Hermione's broken arm, giving them a stern dressing down on the stupidity that they had displayed with such a stunt. However, they were much too tired to pay any active attention as the entire experience had drained them of any energy they might have, but had also bonded them closer as friends. Hermione now genuinely trusted Harry and Ron, and Harry knew that in a pinch his friends would work to solve any problem. Ron was thinking as well, but of different matters. He worried, as a matter of fact. He was worried that the voices he had heard had spoken to him because he was a Slytherin. The things they has whispered had seemed rather designed for him. He had felt angry at the troll for almost killing Hermione but the troll could not help it. It was a dumb brute, a monster that did not think… He realized he had just been thinking like the voices. Ron lay on the gurney and closed his eyes, not going to sleep but merely receding into himself and thinking.
Madame Pomfrey finished mending Hermione's arm, casting a spell on the bones so that they might knit together and bandaged her arm after disinfecting it with a quick spray of antiseptic from her wand. Hermione thanked her numbly and lay on the bed, shivering despite the heat of proffered by the thick blankets and the warm night clothes the nurse had given her. She held out her left hand, staring at it as her fingers uncurled from a fist. On her palm lay some dried skin and a few hairs she had ripped from the troll scant seconds before the professors showed up. The possibilities with these ingredients were almost limitless but the amount she had limited her options to one potion alone. She had to choose wisely, as the wrong combination might end up causing a death, which to her was a sobering thought. She did not want to kill anyone… she just wanted to be respected for her abilities, not belittled for her parentage. She placed the items within the pocket of her robe which lay folded on a nearby chair and lay on her side, closing her eyes before drifting off to sleep.
Harry had been luckier than Hermione, as he had a sprained ankle from where the troll had held him and minor cuts. His belly hurt but that was merely because of the strain exerted on his muscles due to the troll's repeated attempts of killing him. Harry traced his scar with a finger, the lightning bolt rough against his skin. He had survived once and just now he had survived again… He shook his head and set his glasses on the night stand beside him, blowing out the candle that Madame Pomfrey had left by his side and plunging the infirmary in darkness.
Hours passed and when Ron was satisfied that the soft snoring that came from Harry and Hermione's bed was genuine, he swung his legs over the side and dropped to the floor in a crouch, grabbing his robes and picking up a bag in his pockets. The bowtruckel chirped once and Ron placed a finger over his lips. "Shh… Don't wake anyone up…" He whispered and the bowtruckle nodded, extending a vine over where its mouth would be if it had one. Ron slowly peeled back the curtains of his makeshift hospital room and looked around. He did not see anyone but that did not mean that there was no reason to be stealthy. Fred and George had told Ron that prefects patrolled the hallways at night and that would deduct points from any student stupid enough to let themselves get caught. Ron had no intention of costing Slytherin more points than he already had so he made up his mind to go silently to the library. He had a feeling that Miss Pince would not be awake and capable of refusing him entrance into the Forbidden Section and if she was… well, he would burn that bridge when he got to it.
Ron was grateful that the majority of the halls within Hogwarts were covered in carpeting, the thick fabric muffling his already somewhat stealthy footsteps. Ron and his bowtruckel weaved around prefects who had their wands out with light emanating from them. He made a mental note to learn that spell as it might come in handy at some point. There was a moment when Ron almost got caught and that was when he almost slammed straight into Percy, his older brother. Ron had been looking to the side and had not been paying much attention but that error almost cost him his trip to the library. Thankfully, Ron kept his cool and managed to hide behind a suit of armor before Percy could spot him, walking on and without noticing anything amiss. Breathing shakily, Ron wiped his forehead, some sweat having formed there due to stress and made his way to the library. Once he reached it, he looked at both sides of the hallway and opened the doors, quickly entering and shutting them behind him, making sure to do it with as much silence as was possible. He bit his lip as a light flickered through some of the bookshelves. There were prefects there as well…
Pressing his body against the backs of the book, he looked through the spaces and sighed with relief. It was just one prefect, so it was going to be easy. Ron looked about and up at the ceiling, then to the second story of the library which circled around the walls and happened to connect to the grated ceiling that covered the Forbidden Section. He looked at the light, feeling with his hands to make sure he did not trip over anything until he reached the stairs and quickly ran up them, his bare feet padding softly on the cushioned steps until he reached the second story and stopped, breathing deep and a little louder to catch his breath. He was farther away from the prefect so it was perfectly safe to lower his stealth even for just a moment. Ron remained crouched and made his way around the floor, keeping the hovering light of the spell in sight so he could know if he was safe or not. He did so slowly and thus it took him a few minutes of slow crawling when if he had been able to run, he would have reached it in seconds. Eventually however, he arrived at his destination.
Ron looked past the handrails and through the grated iron into the Forbidden Section. He was sure the book he was looking for was there, he just had to find it. He reached with his arm and placed the bowtruckel on the iron, where it clung to with its vines, looking at him forlornly. Ron took a breath and whispered. "I need you to unlock this." He said, pointing at the iron. The bowtruckel merely shrugged, or gave the impression of doing so, and flitted over to a spot where Ron could reach the entrance but only if he dropped down directly on the grating. With a faint click, the trap door was unlocked and Ron extended a hand, which the bowtruckel gripped and used to pull itself to him. "Thanks." Ron whispered and placed the creature inside the bag which he gently slid back into one of his pockets. "Okay…" He said, rubbing his hands and taking a deep and calming breath.
This was the hard part, as he had to somehow make his way onto the top of the iron, hope said iron did not collapse underneath his weight and slide into the Forbidden Section through a trap door that was only big enough to allow him to squeeze through. If he was a year older, this would be a futile plan as his body would be too big to fit through. Ron looked at the rest of the library and froze. Where had the light gone? He looked around and spotted it moving up the stairs. He felt his heart pick up as he realized that the prefect was doing his rounds on the top of the library as well, which meant that Ron had to jump into the Forbidden Section now or fail. There was no in between.
Ron steeled himself and propped a leg over the handrail. Thankfully it was somewhat dark and he was quiet as well. He hung from the railing by his fingers and once he saw the prefect grow closer he let go. Ron landed in a crouch and oddly enough the iron grating did not even seem to register his weight as it barely even shifted around. He opened the door and quickly slid his legs in, then his waist and just as the prefect was about to see him, he slid in and landed with a dull thud. The air was noticeably colder here and Ron shivered slightly, looking up and realizing he had left the door open. It did not matter; he'd grab the book and be on his way before anyone noticed the trapdoor. He clenched his teeth and shivered again before making his way along, looking at the spines of the book and the wooden shelves which listed the title of the book and the name of the author.
Ron was lucky; he remembered both the name of the author and the title of the book he was looking for. Thus, he went off in search of either the name 'Aschlepus' or the title 'Ancient Rituals and their Uses.' Ron made his way through the section, meandering down the alphabetical order. He had landed near the end of the section or in the Z area and thus he had to make his way up to the front, hoping that eventually he'd reach the book without exposing himself before the doors and their see-through glass. Ron made his way, reading softly the names of authors and books. It seemed that the authors were the ones in alphabetical order so he concentrated on spotting the name amidst all of the obscure names he was reading. Soon, he reached the A section and when he neared the end he stopped. The book was not there. He frantically looked around and upwards, trying to see if the prefect was anywhere near him. No light, so far. That was good.
Ron scanned the shelves. While he was here, he might as well grab a book to read. He would not go empty handed from the library. Ron looked at the shelves once more, walking back to the end of the Forbidden Section. Suddenly he stopped. The whispering was back, soft still but understandable. "Grab it…" the voices said, and Ron looked around. Grab what? "The book… the scroll… the parchment…" They said, repeating it over and over until Ron pressed his hands to his ears and groaned. Just as soon as they had returned, they left and the silence was just as deafening as their cacophony. Ron was shaken. What was happening to him? He glanced around and saw a book titled 'The Ancient Religion and its Gods.' Beneath it was a scroll with no title, simply bearing the name of Bahamen as its author. Lower still was a single sheet of parchment, rolled up and shoved into a tiny whole at the foot of the shelf. It had no credited author, bearing the word Unknown where the name would be, however the title struck Ron to the core; 'Power to change the World.' He hastily pulled it from the whole, also taking the larger scroll and finally grabbing the book, softly cursing at the awkwardness caused by the large items and at the clinking of the chains that kept the rest of the books in place. He took off his jacket and looked at it. It was big enough that the book and the parchment would fit, however the scroll itself would not. He'd have to carry his jacket like a bag and shoulder the scroll, all the while trying to go unnoticed in a castle full of prefects that held no love for his house. He got to work on a solution.
Later, still within the Forbidden Section Ron observed his handiwork, hands on his hips and lips pursed as he looked at it with a critical eye. He had managed to squeeze all three items into the cloth of his jacket, however now it was stretched beyond its capacity and it would burst apart if he was not quick in stashing the items in a secure spot, where no one would find them and he could retrieve them later. Ron shouldered the makeshift bag, moving his shoulders as he adjusted to the weight and slowly made his way to the front entrance of the Forbidden Section. He peeped through the thick glass and saw no one, so he decided the coast was clear. The door itself was unlocked and he quietly managed to open it before closing it behind him. He looked at both sides and ran as if a million spiders were chasing after him, reaching the end of the library and exiting it without a problem. Somehow he had managed to undertake this personal mission successfully, something that he felt rather proud of. Suddenly, Ron heard the prefect from the library speak. "Is anyone there?" He asked and Ron panicked, taking off in a run and not looking back.
Harry woke from his sleep, the night still young and wondering what had caused him to awaken. He grabbed his glasses, putting them on and listening quietly. "Hello?" He asked softly and a rustle from one of the beds caused him to arise. He peeled back the curtain and sighed. "Ron, you scared me." He chuckled as Ron grinned and shrugged. "Sorry Harry… I was getting some air. I couldn't sleep…" Harry nodded and grabbed a chair, sitting on it. "Today was wild…" He mused and Ron snorted. "More than wild, I'd say. I can't wait to hear what the rest of the school says when they hear about it." Harry laughed though Ron looked rather appalled about it. "No way man, why is that funny? They'll think we are freaks or something. We went to fight a troll, essentially." Then Ron chuckled. "McGonagall was miffed too." Harry laughed and nodded. "Did you see her face when she saw the troll?" Ron joined Harry in laughing. It felt good to laugh…
Hermione lay in bed, smiling at the conversation the two were having. She knew they were trying to be quiet so she could sleep but they were boys after all; rowdy to the end. She leaned over and pulled a curtain aside. "Keep it down, we are trying to sleep!" Hermione joked, smiling at them as they moved closer to her. Hermione knew that this was an important thing to do after life or death situations, otherwise if they went about it alone they'd become ill or go crazy. She had read about it in one of the many medical books her mother owned but never had she thought that she'd apply the knowledge in real life. It felt wonderful, and she liked it.
"Honestly, what do you think people are going to say about it?" She wondered once they stopped laughing. Harry and Ron shrugged, not really having an answer. They sat together in silence, enjoying each other's company before Hermione stifled a yawn. "Well… Goodnight guys." She said before closing her curtain with one hand, the other pressed to her body as she hid herself from their view and fell back asleep. Harry followed suit, waving goodnight to Ron and climbing onto his bed, glasses on his nightstand and soon fast asleep. Ron smiled to himself. Perhaps in Slytherin one did make real friends. He was sure that Harry and Hermione were friends, at least. Draco had been nice and polite but there was something about him that Ron did not trust. He looked at his bag which he had stashed beneath his bed just as Harry woke up. Looking about to ensure he was truly alone, he entered the curtained off section of his gurney and pulled the book out, holding it with both hands and still struggling to lift it. He realized now that it was extraordinarily heavy and he was surprised and somewhat concerned at the fact that he had managed to run with the book and more on his back. He tried to open it but it was locked with a triple set of locks, each unique in design and appearance. Ron thought of using his bowtruckel and was about to pull it out of its bag when the voices returned, softer this time and less chaotic though they still startled him somewhat.
"Read the writings… Find the knowledge buried within… We have waited for many years, Ronald Weasley… We must go now… We will return… We will…" Just like that, the voices were gone again, as if they were vanishing into the walls, echoing all the while. The sun began to peek at the horizon, marking the end of Hallow's Eve'n and Ron looked at the book he held, shivering. He didn't exactly know what was going to happen but he had a feeling that it would be extraordinary. He hid the items and lay on his bed, closing his eyes and hoping to grab some shut eye before they were woken by Madame Pomfrey. He gripped his sheets and pressed them closer to him, feeling his body grow cold even though he knew it shouldn't. Ron drifted to sleep, growing upset as he relieved the moment where he killed the troll. Powerful yet scary, over and over and over until Pomona Pomfrey made her way to their beds and with a wave of her wand pulled away the curtains, the three sighing, groaning and muttering as they awoke. "Wake up!" She shouted, bringing them some herbal tea with which to reinvigorate them. "Come now Potter, it is time to wake up." Harry groaned and shook his head, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Hermione felt as if a troll had landed on her, she felt so sore all over and Ron… well, he had barely slept a wink so he was lying in bed and vowing to himself that he'd never, ever again pull a stunt like that. Ever.
They dressed into their robes and made their way to the great hall, their fellow students talking loudly and looking at them off the corner of their eyes, pointing and whispering. The three sat down and ate slowly. Ron almost fell asleep into his large cup of chocolate, Harry seemed to be rather intent on his powdered donut and Hermione winced every time she accidentally used her broken arm to grab some of the food items. Draco Malfoy saw them and sat beside them, grinning as he took a bite of his own jelly donut, powdered sugar covering his face as he noisily chewed. "So, saw you three killed a mountain troll!" He said loudly, causing Ron to flinch. "Must have been fun, how'd you do it?" He asked, waiting for an answer. Harry tiredly looked him in the eyes and sighed. "Gymnastics." The reply was so unexpected that Draco could only stare at Potter. "G-gymnastics…" He repeated to which Hermione nodded. "Yes, Malfoy. Gymnastics." Ron, on the other hand, was now snoring gently and completely unaware of the progression of the conversation. "Well then…" Said Malfoy, nodding once. "I hope you are all ready for today's examination." Hermione elbowed Ron, who had snored a little louder and woke with a start. "I'm up! I'm… up…" He took a bite of some toast and fell asleep again, chewing on his bite. Hermione stared in amazement. He was eating while sleeping? That was extraordinary.
Harry however turned to Draco, curiosity in his eyes. "A test?" He asked and Draco nodded before leaning close. "Madame Hooch is going to test our capacity to fly on brooms. We're done with theory lessons and she's moving us on to the practical." Draco sounded excited and Harry forgot his tiredness, feeling the same excitement that Malfoy did. Draco placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and sat on the bench. "I've heard," he continued, looking around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "I've heard, that if she is impressed enough, she can recommend students for a position in their house's Quidditch team." Harry grinned. That was an appealing thought. He had just decided to exercise more often, all that time in the cupboard had not helped him in the slightest. "How'd you figure this out?" Harry asked before taking a bite of some more food. "I have my ways." Draco replied with a confident grin. Off to the side, Harry saw Snape chatting with professor Quirrel, stealing glances at the Slytherin table and frowning everytime he looked at Harry. They continued their breakfast in peace, the owls flying in and depositing letters for the recipients before taking off to the owlery.
Hermione sighed and went to grab some syrup for her waffles before an owl landed before her, a letter in its beak. She smiled and laughed, taking it and holding it as if it where the most precious thing in the world. It was from her parents, she knew she was worrying too much when she thought that they were not replying. Opening it, she pulled out the papers, grinning all the while as she recognized her mother's and her father's handwriting. It read as follows:
"Our most dear Hermione, we are so happy to hear that you have made friends already! Your father worried that you would be lonely in a school full of strangers but I knew you'd hit it off with someone. Harry Potter sounds like a very nice young man from the way you describe him. I had no idea that he was such a famous wizard as well; did he really defeat the Dark Lord as a baby? I find it somewhat farfetched but if you tell me it's true then by it must be. I know you are not one for making up stories so I know you are telling the truth. Your father and I are going to spend some time with your grandmother here in Paris. Ever since grandpa died she has spent more and more time in France; between you and me, it's driving your father mad but I like it, it's so much warmer than in London." Here Hermione could practically hear her mother's laughter as she turned to the next page. Now the handwriting was thicker and slanted.
"Hermione, Grandma would like to know if you want anything for Christmas. She insists that you tell her or she'll fly directly to London and board your train to deliver it personally at Hogwarts. I told her it might be a ludicrous idea but she wouldn't hear it. Ask for something realistic, like a pony. It is nice to see her smile when we talk about you. There isn't much left for her nowadays so any chance to get her to come alive is welcome. Your mother told me about the friends you've made. I'm so proud of you, studying and making friends is excellent for children. You didn't say much about Ronald, or Ron as you kept calling him but I think that you should keep your friends closest. Don't hesitate to send us another owl; we love surprises, though I doubt Grandma would be thrilled to see another of the birds. She almost killed it with a broom and it didn't come back for weeks afterward. Only when your mother and I were alone at a café did the bird come and deliver your letter." Hermione chuckled, imagining the wizened form of her grandmother swatting at the owl and yelling at it to fly away. She pocketed the papers within her robes and turned back to her breakfast. She had a feeling she'd need as much energy as she could muster in order to make it through the end of the day.
They arrived at the flight lesson, joining the gaggle of students who were chatting softly while they collectively awaited the arrival of Madame Hooch. Many brooms lay on the open air grounds and confirmed the rumors that the students had heard. They were going to learn to fly at last. Harry, Hermione and Ron joined their fellow Slytherins who gave them some space. Rumors had began circulating the castle that the three had been involved in taking down the mountain troll that had made its way into the large building. All of the students, without exception, muttered about Harry being the one that killed it. After all, he was the Chosen One, the Boy who Lived, the slayer of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. No one thought that either Hermione or Ron had been the ones to do it. After all, she was just a potions nerd who had her face buried within a book more often than not and Ron, well… Ron was Ron. He was a Weasley, harmless and incapable of hurting a fly, much less taking down a fully grown mountain troll.
To Harry, this was one of the reasons why he had been sorted in Slytherin. He was tired of how everyone simply knew as the boy who lived. As if that was the whole sum of his being, his one defining trait. He shook his head and turned to Ron and Hermione. They understood each other, the fight with the troll had bonded them together and they were close now, willing to help each other in any way possible. Then, in came Professor Hooch, her robes billowing in the soft breeze that suddenly picked up through the courtyard. "Today we will be learning to pick up our brooms." She said, her voice heard over the entire bustle of the crowded students. With a wave of her wand, the brooms floated up, following behind her as she organized the students into rows, each broom lowering to the right of them all. "Now then, when I give the signal… You will place your right hand over the broom and say, UP." She demonstrated and her broom flew up to her hand in a rush. Students muttered and talked excitedly. "Now then, right hand out…" The students did as instructed, looking expectantly at the teacher. "And go!" She blew her whistle and the courtyard became filled with children who yelled at their brooms, the word 'up' repeating over and over with varying degrees of force and similar degrees of success. Harry found that his broom flew straight up at his hand, causing him to stand there in amazement. Similarly, Draco who stood beside him commanded his broom and yelped as it struck his hand. Hermione tried many times to get the similar result though her broom seemed content with rolling around on the grass instead. Ron grew tired and yelled at his own broom, causing it to get overexcited and fly straight at his face, smacking his forehead loudly. "Bloody hell…" He said, rubbing his head as his friends chuckled and he too smiled sheepishly, ears glowing red with embarrassment.
Eventually, all students had the brooms in their hands and awaited Madame Hooch's next commands. "Place your right leg over the broom, lean forwards though not too far or you'll shoot off and crash against the green houses. As soon as you feel you are comfortable, stamp your right foot and you'll begin hovering in the air. Then, lean back and you'll lower down to the ground… On my mark… Go!" She blew her whistle and suddenly, Neville Longbottom started hovering much higher than instructed. He was panicking and accidentally leaned forward. Madame Hooch was about to call for him to lower when he suddenly zipped forward and up, screaming at the top of his lungs. "Mr- Mr. Long- Mr. Longbottom!" Shouted the professor, following beneath him on foot, though eventually stopping as she simply could not keep up. Neville flew through the air, his broom hissing with the parting air as he maneuvered himself with his eyes closed. Doing corkscrews, twists and turns, a rather impressive aileron roll and a barrel roll before his robe got snagged on the twin swords of one of the statues that lined the castles roofs. Madame Hooch ran to him, wand at the ready but it was too late. The fabric tore and he fell, collapsing on the ground and groaning as he held his hand. The professor reached him and she knelt beside him, shaking her head as she gently moved him. "That's a broken wrist for sure…" She said, helping him up and keeping his injured limb as stable as she could manage. The professor stalked off towards the group of students, Neville in tow as she parted them before her. "No one is to fly without my supervision." She snapped and pointed a finger at them all, hand swooping in an arch before returning to the support of Neville. "Anyone that is spotted flying will be out of Hogwarts faster than you can say 'Bludger.'"
Off they went and Draco bent to grab something. It was a crystal orb, faint tracery over its surface and a gold band encircling it. Smoke shimmered within, curling over itself as it went from a light grey to a deep red. "Look everyone, Longbottom dropped his remember-all." Said Draco who held it up as a trophy while his fellow Slytherins chuckled and pointed. "Couldn't even remember to keep his fat arse on the ground." Harry shook his head and stepped forward. "Come on Draco, knock it off." He said, extending a hand. Draco looked at it, then he looked Harry right in the eyes. "Well Potter, if you want it so bad…" He chuckled to himself, right foot stomping on the ground and causing his broom to lift him off towards the sky. "Come get it!" He taunted, tossing the glass ball from one hand to the other. Ron and Harry seemed rather confused. Why was he doing this? Hermione however, knew. She had seen Malfoy's type before in many of the schools she had formerly attended. A leader with great abilities to take apart people and see what makes them tick but in essence rather frightened of losing their position of authority. Though Harry did not realize this, Hermione knew that his status as the boy who lived was intimidating for Draco. This was his attempt at doing a power play, as he was trying to embarrass Harry before all of the students. If Harry did not fly up to grab the remember-all then he was weak and Draco had showed him up. If he did go, he risked being expelled from Hogwarts and looking like a foolhardy risk taker. This was social politics at its finest, so even Hermione had to be impressed.
Harry looked around, some of the Gryffindors eyeing their brooms and weighing the odds of success. He sighed and mounted the stick, kicking off and flying up towards Draco who sped away to the distance, laughing as Harry was forced to follow behind, leaning close to his stick. They flew faster than the eye could follow, their brooms zipping along over the grounds. Harry had to admit, if he had not been giving chase then he would have loved to do a slower fly over, the grounds were simply just beautiful. Suddenly, Draco was flying past Harry, laughing loudly as Harry almost fell over from shock. Draco had spun around and quickly retraced his flight which had almost caused a head on collision. Harry turned around and began following closely before slowing down and looking downwards. Draco had dropped the ball! He spun his broom around and dove for the ground, wind rushing past his face as he extended a hand. He was so close… Then, his fingers brushed the glass and gripped it, Harry leaning his body far back and righting his trajectory, lest he end up splattered all over the grounds. He spun for a moment, the world circling around him before he lowered himself and raised a hand, the ball safely within it. The students ran to him, most of the Gryffindors clapping and some were even cheering his name. He smiled, handing the ball to the Ravenclaw girl, Luna. "G-get this to Longbottom, will you?" She nodded, the faint smile of hers never wavering. "Thank you Harry, what you did for Neville was brave. Many would be surprised to find that quality in a Slytherin." Harry chuckled, somewhat out of breath as the adrenaline of flying left him. "Yes well," he began, looking at Ron and Hermione who were both nodding at him with smiles of their own. "Not all Slytherins are bad." He nodded and walked off before the entire group of students froze. Harry looked around, somewhat confused and then turned back before realizing what had happened. Professor Snape stood there, face set in a frown as he looked down at Harry.
"Potter… come with me…" He said, turning around and stalking off. 'Oh dear…' Thought Harry, dropping his broom and following closely behind. They walked in silence, Harry feeling his heart beating within his chest. Was he in trouble? He sped up, now walking alongside the professor. "Sir, am I-" Snape waved a hand and knocked on a door, which he then opened and peered into. "Professor Flitwick, I require a short chat with Mr. Flint…" He said and stepped back. They were soon joined by a tall, hulking beast of a student, a frown set on his face and sneering the whole while. "Yeah, Professor?" Asked Marcus Flint, captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team as he then noticed Harry standing beside them both. Snape nodded at Harry, "This, Marcus… Is your new seeker."
Another day, another chapter. Honestly, I have never been more driven to write until now. This is way fun and I look forward to continuing this style of Dark AU on the books after the Philosopher's Stone. Do leave a review, as those always lighten my day when I get writers block. Nothing too fancy, maybe tell me that you liked it. That's really it, you don't have to do anything else. Also, follow me on Instagram by searching my username aCreativeWriter (I like it there) Also, the Instagram page called turntechpotterhead (they are the ones who gave me this idea.) Ta!
